Blood On The Scare Floor
by BluebottleFlyer
Summary: Terror strikes the Monsters, Inc. factory as Mike, Sulley and their friends choose the wrong night to stay back at the factory, and as a result are placed in the hands of a ruthless killer.Monsters, Inc c DisneyPixar
1. Just Another Day

**Blood On The Scare Floor**

**Chapter 1 - Just Another Day**

The morning sun shone brightly down on the streets of Monstropolis on a fine, breezy morning. Down on one street, monsters were leaving their houses to go to work, to see a friend, or whatever other plans they had for the day. Obviously, the majority of Monstropolis' residents were setting off to work, to do the thing they did best - scaring kids in order to collect their screams, so that Monstropolis could be powered up 24-7-365.

Exactly the job description of James P. Sullivan, better known to his friends as "Sulley". Looking out of his apartment window while simultaneously carrying out his daily rigorous scare workout, he felt content, what with the sun shining and knowing that he was going to have another day of his favourite activity, as well as the fact that his workplace was Monstropolis' largest scream factory, Monsters, Inc. He never let it go to his head though.

"Come on, come on! We're gonna be late!"

Sulley's train of thought and concentration on his workout was swiftly derailed by the shrill cries of his flatmate/scare assistant/best friend, Mike Wazowski.

"Mike," sighed Sulley, stretching his blue/purple fur-covered arms to relax his muscles after the workout, "it's 9:30. The factory is about 20 minutes' walk, we will be _on time_."

Sulley's green, single-eyed ball of a friend frowned, displaying his impatience.

"I know that, fuzzball! But that only leaves us with 10 minutes spare! And you know very well how I'd rather spend that time…"

"Uh-huh," came Sulley's acknowledgement, not stating the obvious fact that Mike was referring to Monsters, Inc.'s receptionist, Celia Mae. Sulley knew all too well that Mike couldn't go a whole day without seeing his snake-haired, pink skinned love of his life. He didn't dare contemplate how life would be if Celia ever broke it off…

"Well, what are we waitin' for?" shrilled Mike, sounding more agitated by the second, "let's go! I can't do my job without you!"

"OK, OK," replied Sulley with another sigh, shuffling his bulky, blue and green furred frame out of the room, down the stairs and outside into the street, with Mike walking quickly by his side, complaining about his car still being serviced at downtown Monster Garage. Sulley didn't really care much for cars; a walk always did him good, in his own opinion, something which Mike didn't ask for too much. Walking also meant that himself and Mike could stop and talk to other monsters in the street, at least when Mike wasn't so adamant to get to work 20 minutes early.

"Hi Sulley! Off to work, huh?"

"Yeah," came Sulley's reply to a green tailed monster walking in the opposite direction, "another day of adventures into another world."

"Oh yeah, that's true," replied the monster, "and you're the best at doing' just that! Have a good one!" With that, the monster carried on down the street.

"You too," called out Sulley to the monster. Being stopped in the street to be told how great a scarer he was had become repetitive after so long doing his job, but at the same time he didn't want to consider the alternative.

* * *

"Hey guys, it's Sulley!"

"Morning, Sulley!"

"Gonna get some more scares on that counter today?"

A myriad of voices greeting the big furry guy were the sounds all round as he and Mike entered the large lobby of the Monsters, Inc. factory. Monsters of all shapes and sizes made their way across the lobby to their respective scare floors, ready for the day's scaring.

Sulley turned to say something to Mike, but noticed that Mike had vanished. Grinning, he turned his gaze to the reception desk in the centre of the lobby, and spied his green one-eyed buddy leaning casually on the desk and making sweet conversation with his "Schmoopsie-Poo".

"…time is precious to me, Schmoopsie. But it's at its most precious when I can look to my side and see your sparkling eye looking at me…"

"Oh, Googley Bear," cooed Celia, her snake hair hissing in satisfaction, "you're such a cutie-pie..."

"Yes maybe, Schmoopsie…" replied Mike with a sickly-sweet smile, "but there is only one cuter than I…and I'm looking right at her."

Mike was instantly rewarded with a kiss right on the lips from his "Schmoopsie-Poo". Before it became more intimate, a familiar deep voice interrupted proceedings.

"Not wasting time, I see Mike," quipped Sulley.

Embarrassed, Mike withdrew his lips from Celia's and whirled round slowly, tittering nervously. Celia just gave a little giggle.

"You would go to lengths if you were in love, Sulley," retorted Mike, trying to keep his ego from bursting, "anyway, I think we should be getting to the Scare Floor now."

"Just what I was gonna say," replied Sulley, setting off towards the corridor to Scare Floor F, "see you later, Celia."

"OK, have a good day," smiled Celia, turning to Mike, "wanna go out tonight?"

"What do you think?" grinned Mike in rhetorical mode, "I'll see you at quittin' time, _mon sweet_."

Blowing a kiss, which was quickly returned by Celia, he slowly strode away from the desk, then broke into a small jog to catch up with his furry friend. He was about to say something when he suddenly tripped and fell to the floor, grazing his knee on the polished marble. Mumbling to himself, Mike picked himself up and looked round, and caught sight of a certain small red monster, wearing a blue hard-hat, standing by the wall looking somewhat nervous.

"Fungus!" growled Mike angrily, glaring right at the timid monster's three eyes, "is this your idea of a joke?"

Fungus bit his lip nervously, looking for an answer. "I…I…did…didn't…"

All of a sudden, next to Fungus, something shimmered into view. Mike almost jumped out of his lime green skin, but relaxed quickly, instantly recognising the shape as it transformed from invisibility to a distinctive chameleon-like monster.

"I should've guessed…Fungus would never have the bottle," said Mike to himself, rolling his eyeball in disgust, and then directing his voice to Randall, "do you have a heart, Randall?"

The purple/blue chameleon monster's drooping mouthful of teeth morphed into a wicked smile, a nasty cackle emitting from it.

"Oh I do, Wazowski. I always make sure that the best of my surprises are saved for you. See? I do care."

Mike tried to come up with as counter-attack, but his think tank was obviously devoid of ideas. He turned his back to his nemesis.

"OK Randall, you've had your fun," came the deep tones of Sulley, stepping in by Mike's side, "there's work to be done."

"I'm fully aware of that, Sullivan, there's no need to state the obvious," replied Randall, rolling his eyes, "but you're not exactly in a rush yourself, are you?"

"I like to take things at my own pace," explained Sulley, trying to walk away, "something you should really take up sometime."

Randall's eyes narrowed, showing his disgust at Sulley's comment.

"You really need to curb your attitude, Sullivan." His voice was developing a menacing undertone now. "I do things my way. You do things your way. I get my scares, you get yours. If things don't go my way, I'm unhappy. And no-one, especially you, Sullivan, wants to be in the same room as me when I'm unhappy."

He drew up close to Sulley, their eyes meeting. Sulley didn't display any fear or discomfort, though he felt it deep down.

"Have a good scare," said Randall coldly, then slithered away in the direction of the Scare Floor F corridor, yelling at Fungus to get a move on.

"Randall Boggs grade A freak," quipped Mike, mopping his brow, "doesn't he know where to get off?"

"As long as we get our work done, he doesn't matter. He just wants to make trouble," observed Sulley with a sigh, breaking into a brisk walk, "come on, Mike. We really are late now."

Mike watched Randall walking off down the corridor and gave a mean frown, then rushed off to catch up with Sulley.

* * *

The sounds of a child's screams could be heard from beyond the brown, wooden door. Then, the sound of quick footfalls on the floor of the child's room, then just as quickly, the door was flung open and slammed shut. The child's scream was pumped into the large, yellow scream canister clamped onto the right side of the door, with the canister's meter filling up with red to show that the canister was full and ready for collection.

Sulley stretched himself to relax his muscles from the scare he'd just carried out. Scaring could be very exhausting, even for the toughest of monsters. Then, he glanced at the giant video wall at the far end of Scare Floor F, which displayed each of the Scare Floor's scarers and the amount of screams they'd collected. Not surprisingly, Sulley was right at the top of the list.

"Great goin' buddy!" proclaimed Mike, giving his friend a high five, "we've almost filled our quota, and it's almost 4:30! Man, this day has passed me by like…like…"

"…an express train," finished Sulley with a grin, "I gotta agree with you there, Mikey."

"Just what I was about to say, Sulley," replied Mike, typically being his Mr. Know-it-all self. At least he was nowhere near as bad as Randall…

Suddenly, two door stations down from Sulley and Mike, another door slammed shut loudly, but no scream emitted from beyond the door. Randall was the monster who had emerged from the door, but rather than looking smug at having collected more screams, his flustered face was a mixture of embarrassment and anger. Instantly, he took it out on Fungus.

"Why don't you ever tell me these things?! Are you that much of a useless simpleton??!"

Fungus, shaking quite violently with fear, tried to bring forth a credible reply.

"I'm…I'm…s…sorry, Randall…I…I…must've picked up the…w…w..wrong r…wrecks, no…r…records…"

"This is the second time I've had a dead door this week!" raged Randall, who was almost right in Fungus' face now, "if you keep making petty little mistakes like this, then all you are doing is just proving that you are just a useless little nothing!!!"

This outburst from Randall had brought the entire Scare Floor to a standstill. Everyone there was listening, standing still and looking quite shocked.

Feeling slightly uncomfortable, Randall looked at Fungus with his shifty, evil eyes. Fungus looked ready to burst into tears, and was just stood there, trembling. Then Randall looked at everybody else in the Scare Floor.

"What are you all lookin' at?" he barked, "ain't you got work to do?"

As soon as he said that, the other scarers and scare assistants turned away and got back to their business. Randall then ordered Fungus to close down their door station, and promptly stormed off.

"Hey! Who said you could leave early?" demanded Jerry, the Scare Floor manager, noticing one of his charges was leaving before he said so.

"I said!" replied Randall loudly through clenched teeth, carrying on out of the Scare Floor. Jerry just sighed and, muttering something under his breath, went back to his business.

Mike felt something he normally didn't feel for Fungus - pity. He decided to go over to Fungus' door station and say something, but before he got the chance, Fungus came walking up to the Scare Floor exit very slowly. He looked disheartened and upset.

"Hey, Fungus!" called out Mike, "are you OK?"

"Leave me alone," replied Fungus in a low voice. He didn't want any sympathy.

"You're lying," observed Mike, "just forget about what Mr. Grade-A freak said…"

"I said leave me alone!" Fungus suddenly yelled out angrily, "all of you…just leave me alone!!!"

With that, Fungus broke into a wild run and headed out of the Scare Floor.

"This is crazy," said Mike to Sulley, "I've never known Fungus to get so upset about Randall bullying him all the time…"

Sulley nodded in agreement. "You know, a monster can only take so much. And when he or she reaches his limit, it ain't pretty."

Mike was about to continue the conversation, but he was interrupted by the loud ringing of the bell, signalling the end of work.

* * *

"So, where are we gonna go?" cooed Schmoopsie-Poo to her Googley Bear as they pondered their plans for the night.

"To be really honest, Schmoopsie…I hadn't thought about that," sighed Mike, ransacking his brain for a decent destination, "maybe we could go to the downtown Jazz Club?"

"We did that last Thursday," observed Celia, pausing for a yawn. It was tiring being a receptionist for seven hours a day. "Though I enjoyed it very much, thank you."

"The pleasure was all mine, my dear," replied Mike with another sweet smile.

"Hey Mike!"

Mike whirled round upon hearing Sulley's excited voice.

"Hey, Sulley…what you lookin' so happy for? Has the garage finished with my car?"

"Nope," replied Sulley, "I think I may have an idea for a place where you and Celia could go tonight. Wanna tell them, George?"

Mike then noticed that Sulley had brought George Sanderson, a fellow scarer, who was at times quite accident-prone, along with him. "I hope I'm gonna like this…" muttered Mike.

"There's gonna be a poker night tonight," announced the orange and yellow fuzzball, "a few of us are gonna take part, and Sulley here thought it would be a good idea if yourself and Miss Mae could come along too."

"Poker?" exclaimed Mike, "sure! I'd love to play, but I'm kinda saving up for a little something…"

"Where is it being held?" inquired Celia.

"On the scare floor," replied George.

"The _Scare Floor_?" moaned Mike incredulously, "did you organise this, George?"

"Well…yeah, kind of…but Gummy Bear helped out too, I'm not entirely to blame," replied George hesitantly, "besides, we wanted to hold it at the Jazz Club, but they're double-booked tonight…"

Mike sighed. He wasn't one for staying at work after hours, but decided to make this night the exception. "OK, we'll come. But I'm not playing. And I hope you've got some food."

"Of course there's food," pouted George, "poker players gotta keep their brains sharp…"

"Yeah, yeah," acknowledged Mike, "see you there. Come on, Schmoopsie, let's go get ready…"

Mike and Celia walked off out of the factory, talking as they left.

"It starts at 7:30!" George called out after them, "don't forget! See ya later, Sulley."

Sulley watched George head off to the Scare Floor F corridor, and then turned to leave. He couldn't help noticing the familiar figure of Randall skulking about over on the far right of the lobby. Shrugging it off, he made his way outside.


	2. The Darkness Rising

**Chapter 2 - The Darkness Rising **

Darkness hung over the city of Monstropolis as the clocks struck 7:30 PM. The lights on the city's many skyscrapers made the tall buildings look like monsters because of the layout of the windows and the cleverly-designed outlines of the structures. The city's many streets were lit up by rows of street lights and the constant cascade of car headlights, white and red, travelling up and down the city's many roads.

Right on the edge of the city, the enormous Monsters, Inc. factory stood out like a sore thumb, lit up by many orange security lights. The almost as huge car park, sprawled out at the front of the factory, which was normally bursting full of cars during the day, was now devoid of them, apart from about four parked right at the front. A fifth car suddenly sped into the car park, sneaking into a parking space next to one of the four other cars. The instantly recognisable silhouettes of Mike, Sulley and Celia stepped out of the car and made their way into the factory.

"I meant what I said," said Mike to Sulley adamantly, "I'm only here to watch, not play. Besides I'd much rather sit and talk to my special someone…"

He glanced at Celia with a grin. Celia smiled back, while her snakes hissed with glee.

"Oh well, your loss," replied Sulley, "I'm definitely playing though, so maybe you could cheer me on."

"Yeah, maybe," mused Mike, who was by now having second thoughts about not playing.

As they walked into the factory lobby, Mike suddenly slipped on the marble floor for the second time that day.

"Whoa, Mike!" said Sulley suddenly, "are you OK, buddy?"

"Yeah," replied Mike, picking himself up, "don't tell me Randall's decided to gatecrash us…"

Celia had noticed that the floor where Mike had slipped was wet, and that there was a trail of wet, soapy water from that point. Celia followed it to a bucket of water next to the reception desk. Instantly she knew who was responsible.

"You two," she sighed, "come out from behind there."

Two monsters, clad in blue hard-hats, one skinny and yellow, the other light green with a worm-like body, emerged from behind the desk.

"Oh, uh…hi there Miss Celia," said the yellow monster nervously, "didn't hear you come in…"

"Aw no," groaned Mike, upon seeing Celia's discovery, "do Needleman and Smitty have to be doin' after-hours work tonight? You two, I slipped on your mess!"

"Oh…sorry about that, Mr. Wazowski," replied the green worm monster, a.k.a. Smitty, "but Needleman left it there…"

"Did not!" said Needleman angrily.

"Did too!" shot back Smitty. This little argument was broken up by George's hollering from the Scare Floor F corridor.

"Hey guys! The game's about to start! Hurry up or you'll have to wait your turn!"

At that, Mike, Celia and Sulley quickly strode in the direction of Scare Floor F. Needleman and Smitty quickly forgot about their dispute and decided to join the party also, scurrying along after the trio.

* * *

"You're not supposed to show anyone your cards!"

"Well _excuse me_, Gummy Bear, you're forgetting that this is my first ever poker game!"

"And it'll be your last if you don't get with the program, Phlegm. Wake up!"

The poker game had been going on for about forty-five minutes now, and there were just three monsters left playing - Mike, the first-time poker player Phlegm (real name Thaddeus Bile) and Bob Peterson, another scarer whose trait was dentures for teeth, hence his nickname Gummy Bear. And Phlegm, being the poor poker player he was, was about to be run out of the game. He anxiously placed three cards down on the table, and awaited the next move from his opponents.

Mike placed a set of his cards down on the table.

"Royal Flush," he said proudly.

Phlegm gave a deep sigh and slapped all his cards down on the table. "Fold."

The other monsters were watching the game from one of the work stations behind the poker table. Sulley wasn't too fazed about having to fold from the game early on, and was taking an interest in seeing how far Mike could get, and was surprised to see he was in "the final". He was also surprised that George, the self-proclaimed "poker king", had been the first to fold. Even first-timer Phlegm had lasted longer.

"This game bites," moaned Phlegm, sitting down in the chair next to Sulley.

"Don't get down about it, Phlegm," advised Sulley, "it's only a game, after all."

"Yeah," replied Phlegm mournfully, "but it's also just another thing I totally stink at."

In the work station next to them, Celia was chatting to George and Pete "Claws" Ward, while Needleman and Smitty were laying waste to some food.

Sulley's thoughts shifted from the poker game to the events from the afternoon involving Fungus and Randall. He couldn't help feeling, deep inside, that something was really amiss between the two. Had Fungus really done something so extreme as to make Randall launch into random tirades, or had Randall reached a part of Fungus that was never normally seen?

"I'm gonna get going now…" Phlegm's announcement of his departure interrupted Sulley's subconscious thoughts, "see ya tomorrow…and tell me who wins, OK?"

"Yeah, of course…see ya in the morning," replied Sulley, focusing his attention back on the game.

* * *

The corridors of Monsters, Inc. were eerie, despite the lights shining brightly along them as they did during the day. Phlegm's footfalls echoed down the corridor as he tried to find the exit. He had been a trainee Monsters Inc. employee for a few months now, but he still didn't know his way round. Another thing I've messed up with, he moaned subconsciously. 

_Bang._

The sudden noise made Phlegm freeze. _Maybe the technicians are doing some work on the pipes,_ he thought to himself, _stop being so paranoid…_

_Bang._

Despite his swift conclusion, Phlegm was feeling very startled by the banging. It sounded like it was coming from above him, so he looked up at the ceiling.

Nothing there.

_Quit the dramatics, Phlegm…_his sub consciousness rebuked him. _I'll just sing a song or something…take my mind off that noise…_

Instantly, Phlegm started humming a song, carrying on down the corridor, trying his best to ignore the loud bangs.

_I'm just-a breezin' on by…la-dee-da…_

_Crash…_one of the ceiling panels crashed down onto Phlegm's head, knocking him to the floor. Dazed, he picked himself up. _What in the world…_

A sharp pain suddenly ripped right through Phlegm's body. Screaming in pain, he turned round onto his back, and in horror, he felt blood pouring from the wound. Then he looked up and saw something.

"No way!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!"

* * *

A triumphant roar went up from the poker table. Except it was more like a shrill, nasal roar. 

"Oh yeah!" exclaimed Mike, punching the air with joy, "Mike Wazowski is the _winner_!"

He promptly gathered up all of his money and the money he'd won from Bob, who was gracious in his defeat.

"Well, I guess that wraps things up," announced Sulley to the group, "it's about time we all got some shut-eye."

Mike went over to where Celia was sitting and put his arm round her. He was rewarded with a kiss from Celia, as well as her snakes.

"I'm glad you changed your mind about playing, Googley," she cooed in her sugary tones, "you showed them who is the real poker king."

Mike smiled. "How about you and I have a private poker game at my apartment?"

"Stop it, Michael!" giggled Celia, "maybe tomorrow night, we both have work in the morning."

Mike nodded in acknowledgement, and set off out of the Scare Floor with Celia at his side.

"He's full of surprises, huh?" remarked Sulley to the defeated Bob.

"You can say that again," replied the blue denture-toothed monster, "I hadn't been beaten in six games before tonight…Mike doesn't normally make it past the second round."

Sulley's response was cut off by a sudden electrical buzzing sound, which echoed all round the Scare Floor. Then the lights died, and the Scare Floor was instantly plunged into darkness. The only light came from a couple of windows at the top of the building shining night light down onto the Floor.

"Aw great!" groaned Mike, "why does the system choose now to have a power surge?"

"Somebody go check the generators," suggested George.

"That's where we come in, man!" replied Needleman, "me and Smitty will go check."

"OK," acknowledged Sulley, "meantime, everyone else stay here."

Mike pouted, "Uh, no way, Sulley, me and Celia want to take a moonlit walk home. Right now."

"No, Mike. We should sort out this problem first."

Mike continued his complaints, while Needleman and Smitty headed out of the Scare Floor. They had torches, so they could find their way around easily.

* * *

Needleman shone his torch on the generator, trying to find the problem, but everything looked to be in order. Usually though, himself and Smitty weren't very reliable at finding or solving problems. 

"It's fine!" he concluded, heading for the generator room door, "so how come we got no power?"

"Don't ask me, buddy," answered Smitty, shrugging his four shoulders, "this is weird…"

Needleman sighed and went to open the door. To his horror, it was jammed shut. He furiously tugged at the door handle, then tried to shoulder charge the lock, but only managed to hurt himself in doing so.

"Did you do this?" he asked Smitty angrily.

"What?" spluttered Smitty incredulously, "are you crazy? No way!"

Needleman groaned, and then it dawned on him.

"We must have been locked in from outside, man…please tell me you got some spare keys…"

"Yeah, I do," replied Smitty, "in the locker room…"

Needleman gave a loud groan, and then started banging on the door in order to alert one of the others.

"Hey!" he yelled, "someone's locked us in here! Go find the keys!" Realising there was no-one there, he gave up.

Smitty looked on with no clue as to how he could help. He didn't notice the shadow creeping up behind him until it was too late.

Needleman suddenly heard the clatter of Smitty falling to the floor and whirled round, immediately yelling in horror and pain as the shadowy figure plunged a knife into his leg. However, Smitty was still conscious, and managed to get up and whack the assailant, who fell over Needleman. Realising he'd been discovered, he panicked and kicked the door, which was enough to break the lock, allowing him to escape into the darkness.

* * *

Mike looked at his watch. 9:35PM. They'd been there at least two hours now, and had spent the last twenty minutes waiting for Needleman and Smitty to return. Mike's patience had worn thin about ten minutes ago. 

"This is a joke," he moaned, "I could have been curling up in front of the fire by now…"

"I know those two aren't that efficient," commented Claws, "but surely they wouldn't take this long to sort out somethin' like this?"

"OK, OK," reassured Sulley, "if we really must, let's go and take a look. Maybe they're having some major trouble with that generator…"

"So call the generator suppliers!" suggested Mike impatiently, "_they_ can deal with it! I only came here for a poker game, not to play around with the factory's power system!"

Ignoring Mike's complaints, Sulley exited the Scare Floor, followed by George, Bob and Claws. Mike reluctantly followed behind, along with Celia, who was also getting quite disillusioned with the whole charade.

* * *

The footfalls of the six monsters echoed as one down the darkened corridor, some handily collected torches from the locker room lighting the group's way. 

"I never realised how creepy the corridors looked after dark," quipped Claws, "and I'm a scarer! I should be used to this…"

"Maybe after tonight, you will be," chipped in Mike, "let's forget this whole thing and go home."

Suddenly, Sulley froze. He thought he could hear a creaking sound, which sounded like it was above the group.

"You hear that?"

"Hear what?" said Mike.

George sighed and shook his head. "I can't hear anything…"

Suddenly, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Jumping and gasping in fright, he whirled round to see Randall there, who had just come out of another camouflage phase. The sneaky chameleon-like monster gave a nasty cackle.

"Fancy meeting you here…lost, are we?"

"Oh yeah, sure," replied Mike, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, "like we wouldn't know our way around here of all places…what are you doing here? Did you cut the power?"

"Like I would do that," sneered Randall, "you're too judgemental, Wazowski, you know that?"

"I take it that's a yes, then, huh?" stressed Mike, glaring at Randall.

"Did I sound sarcastic?" replied Randall, slightly irked now, "I meant what I said. I didn't cut any power, that's not my forte."

"Liar," hissed Mike, "tell the truth…"

"That's enough!" snapped Sulley, stepping in between the two adversaries, "we're in the middle of a power cut, this isn't the time or place for fighting!"

Randall and Mike promptly backed away from each other, albeit still giving each other nasty glares. Mike's impatience suddenly imploded.

"That's it!" he yelled, "come on Celia, we are leaving! You guys might care about the stupid power supply, but I don't!"

With that, Mike stomped off down the corridor, followed closely by his Schmoopsie-Poo. Sulley just watched after them and shook his head, feeling sick of the whole scenario.

"Maybe Mike's right," commented George, "we should just leave this…"

His sentence was interrupted by a loud crash from down the corridor, and then a blood-curdling scream.

"What the heck was that?!" exclaimed Claws, his eyes wide with shock.

"There's only one way to find out…" replied Sulley, rushing off down the corridor in the direction that the noise had come from. Hesitantly, the others followed behind, including Randall, who just walked casually along, showing no fear at all.

_Paranoid freaks_, he thought to himself. He made his way down the corridor, and then saw that the others had gone around a corner. He followed their trail and caught up with them.

Nothing could prepare the group for what they were about to find.

In the middle of the corridor, Sulley saw Mike and Celia kneeling down. Mike appeared to be comforting Celia, who seemed distraught and hysterical.

Gingerly, Sulley walked up to them. "Mike? Celia? You OK?"

Mike turned round. His skin had turned a deathly pale shade of green, as if he'd seen something truly awful. His voice was shaky and small with fear and disbelief.

"Sulley…t…t..take a look at this…."

Puzzled, Sulley glanced beyond Mike and Celia. Instantly his puzzled expression transformed into an expression of sheer horror as he saw the gruesome sight. He covered his mouth and gasped.

There before him was a fallen, broken ceiling panel, and lying on top of the debris was the lifeless corpse of Phlegm. On his back was a gruesome stab wound, and most of his body was splattered with blood from the wound.

"Sulley, what's goin' on…oh my…" Claws was the next to see the horrible sight. George almost threw up. Bob's face went ghostly blue.

Randall's expression at the sight was also one of horror. His normally narrowed, shifty eyes were wide in pure disbelief.

"How did this happen…" he muttered, "how did this happen…"

Celia's face was streaming with tears, and she was shaking with pure fear.

"This is awful…" she sobbed, "just a while ago…poor Phlegm was…was playing poker…and it was only his…first…game…who could do such an evil thing like…this?"

Mike hugged his girlfriend. He was scared for himself, but scared more for Celia. He held onto her very tight, not wanting to let her go.

"We have to get out of here right now!" cried Claws in hysterics, "whoever did this could still be around!"

"I second that," agreed George, "we're sitting ducks…"

Sulley nodded in agreement. "If we leave now, we'll have to tread carefully, and keep our eyes peeled."

Suddenly, Bob went into paranoia overdrive as he remembered the other two missing monsters.

"Wait! What about Needleman and Smitty? They didn't come back from checking the generator…what if the killer got to them too?"

"Don't even think that way," said Sulley sharply, "maybe they escaped him…"

"…and maybe they didn't," butted in Randall, "face it, any of us come across him, we're all dead monsters."

At Randall's negative prognosis, Mike suddenly exploded.

"That's just exactly what you'd love to happen, huh? If we were all dead, you would be the top scarer in this company! Brilliant, Randall…brilliant motive, brilliant plan! Why else would you be hangin' round here when you sure weren't invited to our poker night!"

Randall's eyes narrowed. He wasn't going to take this.

"I don't know what goes on in that primitive brain of yours, Wazowski, but you're gettin' way too callous. You should know better than to hurl accusations around the place…"

The words were spat from Mike's mouth like machine-gun fire. His paranoia had bubbled up to his surface and was now being offloaded at Randall's expense.

"I know you, Randall! I know you're capable of murder! You would do anything to be top scarer! You just waited for us to come here, and then you cut the power so you could pick us off one by one! I never thought you could get this low…but you've outdone yourself!!!"

"Mike," pleaded Sulley, "stop it…"

"Admit it!!!" screamed Mike, ignoring Sulley's pleas for calm, "admit it, Randall! You killed Phlegm, and you planned to kill all of us, too!!!"

Randall turned his back to Mike, trying to block out all the lies. Every word felt like a stake was being driven through his heart. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, trying to keep his rage at bay, but he was failing. _Just one more insult and I might do something I'll regret…_

"Murderer!!!" Mike's screams were loud and vicious now, "lowlife murderer!!!"

That was the final straw. Something inside Randall snapped. He whirled round, his face full of rage, let out a loud scream and lunged at Mike, whacking him across the face with his fists. He jumped onto Mike and started punching him repeatedly. Mike, screaming in pain, also rained blows onto his adversary.

"If I could, I'd kill you of all people!!!" screamed Randall as he attacked Mike. George and Claws tried to restrain the pair, while Celia turned away, sobbing in terror.

"Stop it!!!"

The loud yell from Sulley stopped the feuding monsters dead in their tracks. Sweating, tired and bruised, they slowly turned round to face Sulley.

"Just take a look at yourselves," he raged, "fighting like dogs and throwing round blind accusations, while all the time there is a killer on the loose, and we are stuck here in the dark!!! We've already seen one friend die; if we stay here and carry on like this we'll be joining him!!!"

He glared at his friend. "I thought better of you, Mike…"

Mike suddenly felt very small as he looked at his friend making his stand. He just stared at the floor in shame, closing his eye. He received a cold glare from Randall, but also from the other three scarers. Feeling outcast, Mike turned to Celia for some reassurance.

"I'm sorry, Schmoopsie…" he said forlornly, "that was totally unlike me…"

"Mike…" said Celia in a low, tear-stained voice, "would have only thought that Randall killed Phlegm if…if…he hadn't been here?"

Mike stared at Celia puzzled. "What? What are you saying?"

Celia opened her mouth to say exactly what she meant, but she couldn't say the exact words. She knew that what she would say would hurt Mike badly, and even though she was feeling bitter towards him, she still felt love for him, and would never want to see him hurt.

Slowly but surely, it occurred to Mike. Maybe this time his motor mouth had gone way too far…

"Don't say anything," he said softly, his voice becoming wobbly with emotion, "I can already tell. The way you're all looking at me…"

"No!" Celia protested, "it isn't…"

"Just…don't, Celia…" snapped Mike, "I just found out who my real friends are. And they're not any of you."

Then Mike, his eye becoming glassy with tears, turned and sprinted off down the corridor as fast as he could.

"Mike!" yelled Sulley after his friend, but his plea was ignored. He could only watch as his best friend in the whole monster world disappeared into the distance. Kicking himself inside, he turned to the others, and gingerly spoke, uncharacteristically sticking up for Randall.

"He shouldn't have accused you like that Randall…but in a situation like this your mind just plays tricks with you…maybe he'll come to his senses, maybe he'll come back…"

"I'm being honest with you, Sullivan," said Randall, his voice sounding more gentle than usual, "I haven't got the slightest idea what's happened here. I wouldn't stoop so low as to stab a monster to death…I never thought I'd say this, but I'll give you all the help you need in finding the dirt bag who did this…but this is strictly a one-off. "

Sulley nodded in acknowledgement. "I figured, Randall…but thanks all the same."

"We should get moving," observed Bob, "and we need to find Needleman and Smitty."

"I was just coming to that," replied Sulley, "you might not like this, but we're gonna have to split up."

"Split up?" exclaimed Claws, slight fear in his voice, "why? We'll be better off stickin' together."

"True," replied Sulley, "but I have an idea in which we can catch the killer. Each of us are gonna split into three groups of two."

He turned his gaze to George. "You and Claws - patrol the corridors, if you come across anything or anyone suspicious, alert the rest of us."

Then he turned to Celia. "Celia, go with Bob, see if you can find Mike, he could be in danger…" He stopped short, trying not to frighten Celia. He was reassured by Celia's nod of agreement.

Finally, he glanced at Randall. He felt reluctant to team up with his rival, but right now he had no choice. First time for everything, he thought.

"Randall, you come with me, we'll try and find Needleman and Smitty," he announced.

"Yeah, I got it," replied Randall, equally as reluctant, but willing all the same.

"Alright…let's get moving," ordered Sulley, and the group promptly split into their assigned pairs and walked off on their separate ways.

As the group left, another panel from the ceiling crashed down onto the floor below, just where the group had been before, and a shadowy figure emerged.

_They'll get what they deserve…_


	3. Killing Moon

**Chapter 3 - Killing Moon**

_I don't need them. I might as well just die like Phlegm…_

All kinds of distressing thoughts were forcing their way into Mike's brain. His focus was not on where he was going, or that crazed monster killer. All he could concentrate on was the words of his 'friends' echoing over and over again.

The frustration and anger was now pent up inside Mike, directed not only at his friends, but himself. How could he have been so paranoid, so vindictive? Sure, Randall had seemed to be the likely suspect, but severe doubt had entered his mind. He remembered Randall's threat, but it was just an idle one. Would he have really killed someone?

The pent-up rage finally imploded. With a loud yell, Mike punched the wall. His fist stung with pain, but he was too upset to care about that. He slumped down next to the wall and let his tears flow.

* * *

The bright light from Sulley's torch illuminated the dark walls of the staircase as he and Randall clambered down the stairs towards the Level 1 Basement. This was a place were scarers were rarely seen, and where the generators and rubbish crusher was housed.

Sulley and Randall came up to the door leading into the crusher room. Tentatively, Sulley placed his hand on the door handle and turned it.

"Brace yourself, Randall," he whispered, and then thrust open the door, followed by Randall. They quickly shone their torches around the area, looking for signs of life, or of a certain crazed killer. Breathing sighs of relief at having found nothing, they exited the room.

"The generator room must be somewhere down here," observed Sulley, referring to the corridor outside the crusher room.

"Well, why are we hangin' around?" said Randall impatiently, "let's check all these rooms!"

Sulley nodded, not wishing to incur Randall's wrath, and stepped into the first room on the left, with Randall close behind.

* * *

The torch in Claws' small, yellow clawed hand shook like a leaf in a gale force wind as the light emitting from it temporarily lit up the dark corridor walls.

"This is…horrible," stuttered Claws, trying to maintain his composure, "that freak could be watching us right now and waiting to pounce…"

"Just keep telling yourself it's a nightmare," reassured George, who wasn't feeling too courageous himself, "a really long nightmare and that we are gonna wake up any second."

Claws nodded. "I'll try my best…"

Just then, Claws caught sight of a rubbish chute on the left wall and panicked.

"George…" he said in a frightened voice, "what if…what if the killer's hiding in there?"

George went over to the chute to have a look. To his relief, there was nothing and no-one there.

"Relax, buddy," he coaxed, "it's all clear. Don't let it get to you."

As soon as he finished speaking, a loud cracking sound erupted - right under George. The section of floor underneath him gave way, and with a yell, George plummeted downwards through the floor, crashing through two more floors down. Debris tumbled down after him.

"No!!! George!!!" screamed Claws in terror, frantically rushing over to the hole and looking down through it. The dust from the debris obscured his view.

"George!!!" he cried in vain, "speak to me!!! George!!!"

No reply. Immediately Claws feared the worst, and just stared down at the hole in utter disbelief and shock. _Not another one…_

Then everything went black.

* * *

"Googley!"

The frantic shouts of Celia echoed through the lobby, a more menacing place while in darkness, with only the orange street lights outside providing a small amount of light through the windows.

"Googley! I'm sorry…we're all sorry! Googley!!!"

Her voice becoming tired with all the shouting and exhaustion, Celia slumped down on her reception desk and burst into tears. Bob immediately came over to her and comforted her.

"There, there…it's OK, Celia…we'll find him."

"Maybe…" sobbed Celia, looking at Bob with her glassy eye, "maybe he doesn't want to be found…"

Bob frowned, but in a gentle manner. "Don't talk like that…he was just angry, we were all just angry…he's probably looking for us now as we speak…"

"You don't know that," argued Celia through her tears.

"You're right…" sighed Bob, "but I do know that Mike Wazowski would never do anything stupid. He cares about you too much to even think about stuff like that…"

Celia pulled out a handkerchief, wiping her tear stained face and drying her eye, trying her best to believe just that. But the way he ran off like that…

Bob suddenly pricked up, hearing something in the distance. His instincts told him it could only be one thing.

"OK, Celia…" he instructed softly, "I don't mean to leave you in the lurch…but I need you to stay here. I'm going to take a look around. If I don't get back within half an hour, get out of this factory."

Celia nodded, though scared.She watched Bob disappear off down one of the Scare Floor corridors. Crouching down behind the reception desk, she shivered with cold and fear.

_Googley…I need you, right now… _

_

* * *

_

Bang.

Echoing along the corridor, the sound slowly drew Bob towards its source. To Bob, the banging seemed to be coming from Scare Floor D, so he warily moved towards that area.

_Bang._

Sure enough, as Bob entered the Scare Floor, the banging grew louder, signalling that he was close. He stopped short and scanned the whole Floor, his heart pounding.

_I'm gonna get that freak…_ he told himself defiantly as he summoned up the courage to stride into the middle of the Scare Floor, the small shade of light from the windows up above lighting up his stocky frame as he did.

Whirr.

Bob's heart skipped an almighty beat as a new sound started up. He thought that it must be a door coming through from the vault. Then, the whirr stopped. No doors.

It was then he noticed that one of the computers on one of the workstations was lit up with static. Nervously, he walked over to it, pressing a button on the keyboard. As soon as he did, the static faded away to reveal a black screen. Then suddenly, green letters were displayed across the screen.

"_PREPARE TO DIE"_

Bob's heart leapt in his mouth, his dentured teeth chattering in fright at what he'd just seen. Before he could turn to exit the Scare Floor, he felt an almighty blow to the back of his head.

* * *

Seconds later, Bob came to, his head throbbing from the blow. He tried to rub it with his hands, but couldn't seem to lift his arms up. He realised in horror that he was bound up…onto a door, standing upright in one of the door stations.

Then he glanced in front of him, and his eyes widened with shock. Right in front of him was the killer, as he instantly realised.

"You…" Bob began, but before he could say anything further he felt the door rise up out of the door station. He watched as the Scare Floor disappeared below him, along with the killer, staring back at him with a wicked look of satisfaction.

The door on which Bob was bound proceeded along the overhead track through into the huge door vault, where hundreds of doors into the human world were stored. Bob's door was the only one active.

_Maybe I could jump onto one of the platforms below and get outta this mess…_thought Bob to himself. He hadn't anticipated his door suddenly picking up speed and flying down the tracks.

Gripping the door tightly, Bob tried his best not to look down. He was momentarily distracted by the platforms down below.

Looking up too late, he saw that another door was active. It was on the same track as his door, and it heading directly at him at high speed. He closed his eyes and screamed in vain as the two doors collided and smashed into pieces, crushing him to death.

Bob's body fell from the door wreckage all the way down to the solid concrete base of the vault, emitting a loud thud as it hit the ground.

* * *

Her face buried in her tentacles, Celia was beside herself with hysterics. She had repeatedly called out for both Bob and Mike in the last hour, and was emotionally drained. Her snake hair was also crying small tears.

Stepping out from under the desk, Celia slowly edged away from it and walked across the lobby towards the factory exit.

Just as she reached the door, a hand suddenly grabbed her mouth and dragged her away from the exit, screaming in terror.

* * *

"This looks bad…real bad."

Sulley and Randall stared dumbfounded at the state of the generator room. Blood covered the floor and entrance door, and bloody handprints were on the door handle where the killer had opened it to make his escape.

"They were definitely here," commented Randall, picking up one of Needleman and Smitty's blue hard hats, which had come off in the struggle.

Immediately, Sulley felt very uneasy. "I think we should get back to the others…I have a very bad feeling…"

Suddenly, a loud whirring noise could be heard. Sulley and Randall jumped slightly, and then tried to listen for where it was coming from.

"Whoever this freak is, he's having a ball playing games with us," growled Randall, "when we find him I'll wring his neck…"

"And make yourself no better than he is?" questioned Sulley rhetorically.

Randall went silent then; his discomfort at teaming up with his rival rearing its ugly head again. He shrugged it off, concentrating on the noise.

Sulley then exited the generator room, motioning Randall to follow him. Sluggishly, they tip-toed along the Level 1 Basement corridor, back the way they came, and found the door to the crusher room. Once again, they thrust open the door and went inside.

"I knew it," whispered Sulley, "the crusher's been switched on…"

He then walked over to the safety window, where the crusher could be seen crashing down on various pieces of junk. Randall joined him.

"My guess is that he's just trying to frighten us into going somewhere where we'll all be together, then he'll take us out in one swoop!" hazarded Randall.

"It seems likely," agreed Sulley, suddenly offset by the crashing sound of the crusher…it had changed slightly. It wasn't crunching down onto metal junk now - it sounded more like something soft and large.

Randall noticed Sulley's expression. "What's wrong?"

"Listen," instructed Sulley, "the crusher…"

"What about it?" questioned Randall, gradually realising something had changed. As one, Sulley and Randall looked over at the crusher. A large, blue mass was under the crusher. A crunch sound could also be heard as the crusher rained its blows down on the mass.

"What is that?" mused Randall in bewilderment. All of a sudden, he noticed that around and behind the mass the conveyor belt was covered in something, a dripping substance.

Sulley saw it too, and with sheer horror realised what the liquid was. Then he saw that the mass and arms hanging down, with yellow claws on the end. His face was one of disgust and repulsion at realising what he and Randall could see.

With nausea and fear creeping into their systems, the duo bolted for the exit and clambered all the way up the stairs back to the main floor, slamming the door behind them.

Slumping against the wall, Randall and Sulley exhaled heavily with exhaustion, sweat dripping down their skin, trying to come to terms with the terror of the scenario.

"Claws…" mourned Sulley, "poor Claws…he should've…got away…we…we…have to get away from here…now…"

The next second, an almighty blast shook the factory, causing the ceiling to cave in on top of Sulley and Randall. They collapsed through the floor down to the basement below.

* * *

Everything was blurry, and his strength was being sapped away by the minute.

_This has gotta be the worst major bummer ever… _

Gritting his teeth in agony, Needleman limped along the corridor, his badly wounded leg leaving behind a trail of blood. All he could think about was getting to the others before the killer did.

"Where are they…" he muttered in pain, "where are they? We gotta find them, man…"

"Slow it down, buddy!" said Smitty with concern, "you're making that leg worse!"

"You think I don't know that?" growled Needleman, groaning with the pain and numbness from his leg.

Suddenly, a yell could be heard from further down the corridor. Smitty squinted, and with a mixture of joy and fear, he called out.

"Hello! Over here! We're alive!!!"

"Smitty? Needleman? Is that you? Hold on, I'm coming!"

Immediately, Smitty, followed with difficulty by Needleman walked at a fast pace along the corridor. As they got closer to the other monster, they soon realised who it was upon seeing the familiar ball shaped silhouette.

"Whew!" exclaimed Mike, stopping his run, and now out of breath, "you guys OK…oh no, he got to you…" He'd just noticed Needleman's mangled leg.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wazowski…" moaned Needleman apologetically, "we didn't catch who it was…"

"It's OK, apology accepted…" replied Mike, "besides, I'm the one who should be saying sorry to the others…"

"Why?" asked Smitty.

"Oh…um…never mind, I'll tell you later if we get outta this…" replied Mike, pushing his errors to one side, "now let's get moving before…"

The blast shook the entire corridor, knocking the trio to the ground. Debris rained down on them as the ceiling crashed down from above, knocking them unconscious.


	4. All Becomes Clear

**Chapter 4 - All Becomes Clear**

_Schmoopsie-Poo…_

_Googley Bear…_

_Do you want to know something, my love?_

_Why? It's not something bad, is it?_

_Of course not! Er, I mean, no, no way, darling…_

_Well, if it isn't bad, then tell me…_

_OK, OK, Schmoopsie, here it is, the whole truth…every minute of every day I only want to be with one person…and she's sitting right next to me…_

_Oh, Googley, I feel just the same! I want to get out from behind this desk and go into a meadow with you and look at the blue sky…_

_Then let's do just that, Schmoopsie! Come on!_

_Oh, I love you, Googley…kiss_

"Schmoopsie…Schmoopsie? Where'd you go…?"

All of Mike's unconscious visions disappeared in a sudden flash and was replaced with a surge of pain. Clutching his 'head' and groaning in agony, he staggered to his feet to be greeted by the sight of crackling flames and twisted piles of debris. The corridor back to the lobby was blocked off by the fallen debris. Judging by the devastation, Mike concluded that a large amount of the floor above had caved in due to the impact of the blast.

Moving over to the wall and leaning against it, rubbing his wound, he could only think of one person.

"Where are you…my love…" Mike thought out loud, his eye filling with tears, before he buried his blackened face in his blood-stained hands. It was then that he heard a groan, which sounded like it was coming from the debris. He rushed over to the source and looked in horror as he saw a familiar yellow and red hand.

"Needleman! Are you OK?"

Needleman's reply was weak. "I dunno, man…how about…you…?"

For once his life, Mike's attention wasn't fixated on himself. It was funny what different situations could do to someone's personality.

"Never mind about me…I'm getting you and Smitty out of here."

The tone of Needleman's reply was now very edgy. "I dunno about Smitty, man…he's in a bad way…"

_I'm not having anyone die on me_, Mike told himself as he started to clear away some debris. He winced as sharp chunks of metal and cracked bricks, tiles and cement scraped against his bare hands. Eventually he managed to clear enough debris to be able to pull Needleman out from his trap.

"Thanks, man…" commended the janitor, his body blackened, along with a few cuts and bruises, "but what about…"

"Getting to that right now," replied Mike, already pulling away more debris, "gimme a hand here…"

Needleman immediately joined Mike at his side, helping to clear away more wreckage. Unfortunately, as they pulled away a girder, it dislodged some more wreckage.

"Look out!" yelled Mike as it crashed down, almost burying the duo. However as the dust cleared, it revealed the familiar shape of a worm-like monster, covered in dust and cuts. Only problem was, he was laid down on his back and was coughing weakly.

"Oh man…" said Needleman in dismay, rushing over to his friend's side, "Smitty, you gotta be OK…"

The brace-toothed worm monster looked up at his buddy and gave a weak grin. "Don't worry…I'm OK…no killer's gonna get rid of us that easily…"

As soon as he uttered those words, Smitty's eye closed as he lapsed into unconsciousness.

Needleman went into hysterics. "Smitty! Wake up, man!!! Come on, this ain't a joke!!!"

Mike took a closer look. "Calm down, Needleman…he's only unconscious…"

"But he could still die, man!" cried Needleman, tears welling up in his eyes, "he's my best friend! I don't wanna lose him…help me out here, man!"

Mike just stared at Needleman, then at Smitty, trying to think of an idea. Only one logical idea came to him.

"This'll be tough, but if you can dig through the rest of that debris, you can get outta here, get Smitty to Monstropolis General and alert the authorities…" suggested Mike in desperation.

"It's the only way," replied Needleman firmly, "thanks, man…"

"One thing, Needleman…" spoke Mike, "when you alert the authorities…don't expect me or any of the others to come out of here alive…"

"Don't talk like that!" snapped Needleman, clearly hurt by the comment, "you and everyone else will get outta here alive! That killer will get his just desserts! Promise me!"

Mike just deeply sighed and turned away. "Sorry, Needleman…I can't…now hurry…go…"

"But I don't want you to die…" protested Needleman.

"Just go!" replied Mike urgently, "your best buddy's life is on the line…let me take care of things here…"

With that, Mike turned and walked down the corridor, his body lit up in a red shade by the flames from the wreckage. Needleman watched in sadness, and then, hoisting the heavy body of the unconscious Smitty onto his shoulders, and gritting his teeth, he rushed into the debris and frantically started clearing a path…

_

* * *

Krak-boom…_

The sound of the blast woke Sulley with a start. He had just played the moment over again in his mind. Blinking his eyes, he saw that he was in some kind of chamber. Looking above, he saw long stretches of pipes. Some of these pipes had holes in them, from which steam was emitting. Guessing that they were carrying scream power, Sulley tried to get up, but felt that his legs and arms were stuck. He quickly realised that he was bound to a stool.

Then he remembered that Randall had been with him when they were blasted through the floor. He looked round, and found the purple chameleon monster to his left, also bound to a stool, except he was slumped over, his eyes shut, clearly unconscious.

"Randall…" called Sulley weakly, "Randall, wake up…"

Sulley's calls were acknowledged by Randall, slowly opening his eyes and turning groggily to Sulley.

"Uh…Sullivan?" he groaned, straining to get up, but struggling as Sulley did, realising he was also bound. "Grrr…looks like we've been invited to somebody's little party…"

Sulley nodded. "I guess that explosion was the invitation…" he quipped, "where are we?"

"Seems like we're in the no-go area," replied Randall, his eyes scanning the area, "call it Monsters, Inc's underbelly…I've heard about it from various peeps…"

Only a dim blue light lit up the two captives from above the chamber. Everywhere else in the chamber was somewhat dark with dim, dingy yellow lighting. A very grim place indeed.

"How did we get down here…?" questioned Sulley, still groggy, "was it the blast?"

"I don't think so," replied Randall, still trying to break out of his bonds, "there ain't any explosion damage as far as I can see…but I know what I do think…"

Before Sulley could reply, the echo of a set of footsteps could be heard, from the small open entrance to the chamber. Sulley and Randall froze, their eyes widening with fear, realising that it must be the killer.

A shadow appeared on the wall close to the entrance, it looked big enough to be a crazed killer, but as the footsteps grew louder and closer, the shadow seems to get smaller. The sound of someone whistling could then be heard.

Sulley and Randall closed their eyes as the killer entered the room, shaking with fear both inside and outside. Neither of them dared re-open their eyes for fear that they would be struck down if they did. All thoughts of that were interrupted by a voice.

"Hello…how did you like my pyrotechnics?"

That voice…thought Randall, I know it…it can't be…

Opening his eyes like a shot, followed by Sulley, their mouths immediately dropped open in a mix of fear and bewilderment.

Standing a few feet away from them was a very well-known small ball-shaped red monster, with a fin on his back, double-jointed legs, three eyes, three-lensed glasses and sporting a blue hard hat.

"Fungus…"

The normally nervous scare assistant slowly walked up to the duo, keeping his stare fixed on them. His eyes had a wicked glint in them, never seen before. His steps were slow and menacing.

"How does it feel…_boss_?"

Randall just stared, shell-shocked, unable to believe the whole situation.

"Speechless…for once in your rotten life," taunted Fungus, his normally timid voice now sporting a sinister undertone, "I'll tell you exactly how it feels. How it feels to be oppressed day in day out."

He turned away from Sulley and Randall and paced around the room.

"Scarers and their assistants are supposed to be a team, right?" he uttered, both to himself and to the duo, "supposed to stick together, supposed to help each other…but to every rule there just has to be an exception, doesn't there…"

Pausing, and then turning to Randall, his voice grew more and more emotional as he continued.

"Every day, I come into work. Oh, everyone else is just fine, they get along, they have a fantastic day…but me? I'm the nervous wreck. The nerd. The nobody. The court jester. I walk onto that scare floor and everyone looks at me like I'm just a speck. And I'm shaking and wishing that the floor would cave in and eat me…would you like to know why, Randall?"

"Fungus…" interrupted Sulley, "stop…"

"Quiet!" snapped Fungus, "I'm talking to my partner…my good old partner. Always striving to be the best of the bunch. No matter what…"

Randall just shook his head. "Snap out of it, Fungus! You know the drill. Scaring ain't an easy job. You have to be ruthless. You think it should just be a cakewalk? You think I should have to take a back seat to the other scarers?"

"You think it's OK to treat others like dirt?" interrupted Fungus, his voice growing louder, "you think it's OK to get everything you want in life at the expense of someone else?!"

His face then fell, and he turned to Sulley.

"I'm very sorry I had to drag you into this, Sullivan…" he said, his voice now choking up with sadness, "and your buddies…but I hate this place…I have to get rid of everything and everyone that reminds me of it…I have to get her too…"

Instantly Sulley knew who 'her' was. Glancing over in a darkened area of the chamber, he saw the familiar snake-haired figure of Celia, also bound and sitting on the floor. She was shaking and sobbing with genuine fear.

"Fungus," pleaded a shocked Sulley, "stop this madness. Let Celia go, she hasn't done anything wrong…you can get help…"

Fungus gave Sulley a stare, which seemed like an evil, vacant stare, yet at the same time it was also one of despair. "I can't…"

He then walked over to a small control panel at the far side of the chamber, and pressed some buttons on it, activating something.

"It's time," announced Fungus quietly.

"Time?" questioned Randall, a hint of worry in his voice, "for what?"

The disturbed scare assistant narrowed his eyes and glared at Randall. "You'll see."

Suddenly, a quiet hissing sound was heard, and a few seconds after, steam suddenly poured into the chamber and red lights started flashing. The steam emitted the familiar shrill sounds of children's screams. Instantly, Celia, Randall and Sulley realised what it was.

Fungus gave an evil grin. "You're always trying to get the most screams on the Scare Floor," he drawled, "so you shouldn't complain about getting all the screams you want…and then some!"

"What do you mean?" yelled Randall through the noise, but Fungus just gave an evil laugh.

"Time to go," chirped the scare assistant, waving at his three captives, "it was a pleasure working with you…"

"Answer me!" yelled Randall as Fungus ran out of the chamber, "Fungus!!!" Celia just gave frightened whimper.

"Leave it…" interrupted Sulley, "we have to get out of here, right now…"

Struggling at the bonds tying him to the stool, Sulley suddenly started coughing and gasping abnormally. Almost immediately the same symptoms took effect on Randall, then on Celia.

"The scream…" wheezed Randall, furiously tugging at his bonds, "too much…exposure…"

"I know…" replied Sulley, sweat pouring down his face, trying to think desperately of a way to free himself and Randall. However, his energy was fading fast.

As the scream power poured into the chamber, the three captives struggled frantically at their traps, but their movements were becoming slower as their breaths got shorter.

The normally positive minded Sulley was losing hope of a way out.

_Where are you, buddy…_

* * *

Fires raged along the maze of the Monsters, Inc. factory's wreckage-strewn corridors as the little green eyeball Mike Wazowski raced along, his face a picture of desperation and anger. His hands were still pouring with blood, drops splashing on the floor as he ran, but he didn't care. His feet were also aching, sore and blackened, but he didn't care.

All he wanted was to find his best buddy, his precious Schmoopsie-Poo, and that psycho murderer.

Mike just kept on running where his feet and heart were taking him, desperately combing every room for any chance sighting of his friends. Suddenly, he tripped over something and hit the floor with a crunch. Moaning in anger and pain, he picked himself up, only to stare in horror at what - or rather who- he'd tripped over.

_Poor George…_ Mike thought as he looked at the orange and yellow fuzzball, whose fur was blackened and splashed with blood, and his body twisted sickeningly due to the fall he took from two floors above.

His anger now almost at boiling point, Mike started running along the corridor again, avoiding some falling debris.

Next thing Mike knew, he felt a blow to his body and was face down on the floor. Groaning, he pulled himself up from the floor, and then turned around to see Fungus standing behind him. The glow from the flames made Fungus look very dark and menacing.

"Fungus…?" questioned Mike wearily, "what are you…"

Before Mike was finished, Fungus suddenly grabbed him by the arms and almost twisted them round, causing Mike to yell in pain. Fungus spoke in a growling, crazy voice.

"Don't bother looking, Wazowski…they're suffocating in the maintenance level right now as I speak…"

Mike's eye widened with realisation. "Y…you…you? You did this?"

Fungus just gave a slow blink of his eyes to acknowledge his admission. Mike immediately tussled with the murdering monster to try and break free, but Fungus was displaying uncharacteristic strength to prevent him from doing so.

"Now, Wazowski…" he cooed, "I'd let you go…but you've seen way too much now, so by my analysis, you will have to die too…it's a shame you couldn't die in your girlfriend's tentacles…"

Mentioning Celia was the last straw. Mike exploded with rage, and with a loud yell he slammed one of his heels into Fungus' legs, knocking him over. Fungus hit back by punching Mike in the face, knocking him down, but Mike then kicked Fungus again, sending him sprawling across the corridor.

Mike got back up and faced Fungus as he picked himself up. Fungus now looked increasingly deranged, his teeth gritted in rage. With a growl, he lunged at Mike, but the growl changed from one of rage to one of terror as a whole chunk of ceiling and concrete from the floor suddenly crashed down on him.

Jumping back, Mike covered his eye, and then gingerly looked at the fallen debris, which was now topped off with small flames. He couldn't see his fallen nemesis' body.

His emotions a mix of sadness and relief, Mike suddenly remembered what Fungus said.

_The maintenance level…_

Straight away, Mike headed frantically along the corridor, knowing that he was short on time. He had to make it.

* * *

All around was now blurred beyond recognition, and their breaths were becoming more shallow. The scream power now had a deadly hold on the condemned trio, and their struggles to break free had now more or less stopped as they gasped for air.

Celia was now too devoid of energy to be able to scream for help. Randall was lying lifeless upon the stool. Sulley was preparing for the worst, breathing in vain, all out of options. Closing his eyes, he got ready to breathe his last.

_So, this is it…this is how I die…_

All of a sudden, the steam stopped pouring, and the sounds of screams died away. The breaths suddenly returned to the trio, and their hands and feet were suddenly freed from their shackles.

Sulley squinted, his vision still blurred, but he was still able to make out a distinctive green ball standing in front of him.

"M…Mike?" he drawled wearily, "is…is that…you?"

"It's me alright, buddy," replied his eyeball friend, "are you OK?"

"That scream power half-killed me…" replied Sulley, staggering to his feet, "and Randall and Celia…thank heavens you got here…"

"Celia!" exclaimed Mike, suddenly rushing over to his girlfriend, untying her and hugging her tightly in his arms.

"Oh…Michael…" sobbed Celia, "I thought I was going to die…I was so scared…"

"It's OK, it's OK," soothed Mike, tears forming in his eye, "I'm here now…I won't leave you again…ever…you mean everything to me…"

Celia looked at Mike with her glassed eyes. "Fungus…Fungus of all people…why…why would he do this?"

"It's beyond me…" sighed Mike, "but it's OK…he's dead now…we had a run-in…"

Sulley quickly interrupted. "Sorry, but we need to get out of here. Right now…this factory is badly damaged and unstable."

"Needleman and Smitty went to alert the authorities," explained Mike, "they should be on their way now."

"OK," acknowleged Sulley, "we'd better move in that case. Come on."

At once, Sulley, Mike and Celia hurried out of the chamber. Randall, however, remained on his stool, frozen in thought. For once in his life, he knew he was at fault. He'd caused his scare assistant to go off the rails and the deaths of four monsters.

His thoughts were interrupted by Sulley's calls.

"Randall! What are you doing? Come on!"

"I can't!" came Randall's edgy reply, "I caused all this…I should stay here and die…"

Sulley ran back into the chamber. "Don't talk like that…sure, you were mean to him…and the rest of us, to be honest…but you couldn't have known Fungus would end up going to these extremes…"

"Exactly," retorted Randall, not exactly comfortable with his rival giving him advice, "the authorities should arrest me for all this…or maybe I should just go and burn myself on the flames…"

At this, Sulley looked hard at Randall, his rival, now admitting his faults. "Snap out of it! Fungus did this, not you! You may have driven him to it, but you didn't kill anyone!"

Randall shot an angry look at Sulley. "Say what you like, Sullivan! You believe what your truth, I'll believe mine!"

He stared up at the chamber ceiling, closing his eyes. "Just leave me here…"

All of a sudden, Sulley punched Randall, not out of hate, but just to knock him out so he could get him out of there. It wasn't normally Sulley's way of doing things, but this was an exception. Hoisting the out-cold Randall onto his shoulders, he swiftly exited the chamber, just as a whole pile of debris crashed down onto the stools from the floor above.

* * *

Flames lit up the wrecked corridors in red glows as Mike and Celia sprinted along, searching for a way to the lobby. The fact that a lot of the floors above had crashed down onto the corridor had made locating the correct path more difficult.

Mike hadn't forgotten about the huge wreckage in the passage just before the lobby, but he was sure that he and Celia would be able to get through it.

"Oh, where is it?" fretted Celia in panic, "where is the exit?"

"It's OK Schmoopsie," reassured Mike, "we'll find it. And even if we don't, the authorities will come and rescue us. We'll be OK no matter what…"

Mike was interrupted by the sound of more footsteps. Almost jumping out of his skin, he was relieved to see that the footsteps belonged to his furry buddy Sulley. He was a little vexed to see that Sulley was carrying Randall, but didn't show it.

"You OK, Sulley?" he asked.

"Yeah…Randall took a little persuading to get out of here though…" observed Sulley.

"I figured," said Mike, suddenly interrupted by a loud scream from Celia, along with frightened hisses from her snake hair. Mike whirled round, and he and Sulley looked in horror as they saw that Celia had been grabbed by none other than Fungus...

"Celia!!!" Mike screamed, running over to help his girlfriend, but Fungus picked up a chunk of cracked concrete and hurled it at Mike, striking him in the face and drawing blood.

"I told you…" yelled Fungus, his body blackened and covered with cuts, "I can't let any of you leave here alive…"

With that, he limped off down the corridor, dragging Celia with him, dodging fallen debris as he went.

"Quick! After them!" yelled Sulley, and at once he and Mike sprinted off after the deranged scare assistant.

Panting with exhaustion and pain, Fungus made his way along the corridor until he came to a long stretch. He knew instantly that this stretch led to the lobby. Hearing Sulley and Mike's footsteps as well as Celia's cries for help, he limped as fast as he could towards the pile of debris obstructing the exit. Seeing the clear path that Needleman had created previously, he clambered his way through it, deliberately knocking down some wreckage to try and prevent Sulley and Mike from getting through. Unfortunately, he succeeded.

"No!!!" yelled Mike, "Celia!!!"

Fungus gave an insane laugh, running across the lobby and crashing through the exit doors and stopping outside the front of the factory. _I've done it…_

Suddenly he was blinded by a giant light, and saw yellow warning lights flashing wildly. Covering his eyes, he tried to see what was going on.

"_Fungus! Release the hostage and put your hands where we can see them!"_

Instantly Fungus realised that he was more or less surrounded by the CDA, the policing organisation of Monstropolis. A short distance in front of him were armoured cars, a helicopter hovering in the air above, and CDA officers clad in yellow protection suits and brandishing what appeared to be guns, all trained on him.

Sweating in both panic and dementia, Fungus clutched the frightened Celia tighter still, scowling in defiance.

"_If you fail to comply, we will have no choice but to take you down! We have our orders!"_

Fungus closed his eyes. His crazed mind was all over the place. _Did I do the right thing?_

Wrestling with his conscience, he felt himself compelled to break for it with his hostage, but he also wanted to give it all up. Either way, he would lose. He would either die by the CDA's gunfire, or would be locked up for the rest of his life and forever branded a murderer.

_You asked for it…_

Releasing Celia from his clutches, Fungus broke into a wild sprint to the right of the factory car park. Immediately the CDA opened fire on him. A single bullet slammed into Fungus' back, and, yelling with the pain, he crashed to the ground, his eyes closing and his movement ceasing gradually. Three CDA officers immediately apprehended him, putting his body onto a stretcher and shutting it inside of one of their armoured cars.

Suddenly, one of the CDA officers , who was scanning the area, detected something on his scanner.

"_This is Number 81,"_ he spoke into his walkie talkie, _"I've picked up life signs within the factory building. Request search immediately."_


	5. Aftermath

**Chapter 5 - Aftermath**

"…_terror has struck the city of Monstropolis after a horrific killing spree took place at the city's Monsters, Inc. scream factory last night._

_At about 10:30PM, one of the factory's scare assistants, named Fungus, exited the building with a hostage and was apprehended by CDA officers, who had been alerted by two monsters who managed to get out of the factory. A thorough search of the factory was undertaken, in which massive structural and explosive damage was found. The bodies of four monsters were found in the factory, all had been killed in various ways. One was found crushed on a waste disposal machine, while another was found with stab wounds, and the final two bodies had internal and external damage. Forensics at the CDA have carried out tests on the bodies, and found that all of the wounds were indefinitely inflicted by another monster. DNA tests proved that Fungus carried out the sickening attacks, it is also believed he was responsible for causing the damage to the factory…"_

The words of the news report blaring from the TV did not escape Mike, Sulley, Randall and Celia. Confined to a ward in Monstropolis General Hospital, the traumatic events of the last twelve hours were still sinking in. For the most part, they were relieved to be alive.

Their concentration on the news report was interrupted by the arrival of Smitty and Needleman into the ward.

"Hi guys," greeted Sulley, sitting on the edge of his bed. Mike, Randall and Celia also acknowledged greetings.

"Hey there," chimed Needleman, who was sporting bandages on his leg, "you guys OK?"

Mike, his small round body totally covered in bandages and plaster, sat up. "We're OK, but we're kind of trying to see the news…"

Needleman nodded, and then glanced at the TV himself. "Man, this is awful…"

The news report became even more morbid at this point. _"The bodies of the victims have been identified as George Sanderson, Pete Ward, Bob Peterson and Thaddeus Bile, who all worked at the Monsters, Inc. factory."_

At once the six survivors' faces fell, even Randall. Sure, he didn't like anyone, but he wouldn't have gone this far.

"They didn't deserve what they got…" said Sulley quietly, "the Scare Floor won't be the same anymore…"

Celia was trying her best to keep the tears back. "I don't think…I don't think I can ever set foot in there…again…"

At this, Mike got out of his bed and sat on Celia's bed, comforting his distressed girlfriend.

"…_'It was horrible…when we realised something was going on, we were just panicked, we couldn't figure out who it might be…and the fact that he could be watching us and waiting to strike…just truly awful…'"_

The words from the news report were Sulley's, though he hadn't wanted to give an interview. Right now, he just wanted to forget the whole trauma.

Randall supplied the question no-one really wanted to hear. "Any idea what's happened to Fungus…?"

Mike just scowled at the chameleon monster's question, as did the others, bar Sulley.

"He's still sedated," answered Sulley, wanting to create closure, "but when he's revived, he'll probably be moved to a secure unit for rehab…"

"I see…" replied Randall, giving a slow nod, "probably for the best…"

Finding the TV report unbearable, Sulley grabbed the remote from his bedside table and clicked it off. The ward then fell very silent for a few moments.

Breaking the silence, Sulley got off his bed and headed for the door.

"Hey, Sulley…" chimed in Mike, "where you goin'? You sure you should be outta bed?"

Sulley just stared at Mike, it seemed like a very lost stare. "I'm gonna get some air…I'll be back soon, OK?"

Mike nodded. "Yeah…it's OK, man…take as long as you need to…"

Sighing, and giving a little nod, Sulley exited the ward. As he walked along the hospital corridor, the events of the last twelve hours sped through his mind once again. The deaths of four of his friends, the sheer callousness and madness of one scare assistant, the fear of almost dying, and the relief of being a survivor. Not one of those thoughts could be forced from the veteran scarer's mind.

Sulley reached the stairs at the end of the corridor and climbed up, all the way to the third floor, where he found a door leading out to a balcony. Greeting him was a breathtaking view of the city of Monstropolis, bathed in morning sunlight, and not a cloud in sight.

_It never looked better…_

**THE END**


End file.
